


The Unwinding Clock of Fate

by Secret_Keeper_AO3



Category: The Poppy War - R. F. Kuang
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Dragons, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Enemies to Lovers, Fantasy, Flashbacks, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Gods, Imaginary Friends, Imperialism, Mythology - Freeform, Old Gods, Opium, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Psychological Trauma, Religion, Revolution, Starvation, Steampunk, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29795970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_Keeper_AO3/pseuds/Secret_Keeper_AO3
Summary: 5 years after the end of The Burning God, Yin Nezha, president of the Republic of Nikan, has saved Nikan-and its people from starvation and war and further atrocity by giving Hesparia the corpse of Fang Runin. Yin Nezha has had to throw open Nikan's gates to Hesparia in order to continue its survival, and Hesparian assimilation, racism, segregation, and discrimination has already rooted itself deep into the continent. But Nezha wants to put a stop to it, and as the Dragon grows restless and the bracelets on his hands tighten the Dragon's only access to the world, it only increases the want to rise, to claim, to sink, to drown.
Relationships: Chen Kitay/ Yin Nezha, Fang Runin/Yin Nezha
Kudos: 2





	The Unwinding Clock of Fate

"President Yin," Nezha's Hesparian Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Jermon Tother, began after entering Nezha's office. "The Gray Company High Priestesses would like an update on your decision to pass the law for mandatory church attendance across Nikan. They are getting increasingly frustrated that after shipping Hesparian stone-" _Stone harvested from a colony, not Hesparia _Yin thought. "here, and skilled craftsmen too, to build the churches in every village, that people aren't going to them. This began here in the province where the New City lies, then is to expand outward to Tiger Province, and then to the more populated provinces until they meet the eastern coast for the beginning stages of the Race Elevation Project. But if people do not see the light, the _order _the churches bring, we are just shoveling precious stone into somewhere too tainted by chaos to be elevated." The old man finished. Jermon was an old man, a highly regarded priest that specialized in foreign politics. Short, thin, bald, and with a beard that went down to his chest. He stared long at and hard at Nezha, with his cold, deep blue eyes. Nezha was too tired of this man to ask why he repeated the step-by-step plan of church construction when he was there when his hand was forced to approve it.____

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_Nezha did not back down. His bracelets itched, the scars on his face felt as if they were burning, and the discomfort was only intensifying as if the artificial drone of machines outside his office in the New City were digging into his skin. Nezha knew this stare, all of his advisors and politicians sent by Hespaira to oversee his term(reign) had it._

"It's the stare." Rin said, at the back of his mind. "It the "You Better Do As I Say Or Else We Will Take Our Forces And Come Here And Take What We Want Without All The Pleasantness You Have Right Now" stare." Nezha wanted her to be quiet, but also wanted her to stay and taunt Jermon because he himself couldn't-unless he wanted for that stare to turn into a threat.

"We received a message just an hour ago from Priestess Venora that your immediate attention and decision on the matter must be presented by the end of the month. A generous timeframe, I'd say." Jermon finished, his old hands shook as he held out the official message in front of Nezha, like he was showing him a medal and wanted to rub it in Nezha's face. "I think you need to approve this, President Nezha. What's the point in building these holy sanctums to The Divine Architect if no one goes to them for his guidance and order?"

"Because they know your religion is bullshit." Rin snapped back. "They've seen me, and they've seen the gods through me. My legacy may have died on that beach, but my memory, and by extension the Phoenix and the rest of the Pantheon, lives on."

_That's right, _Nezha thought as Jermon kept on talking about the Maker and how ungrateful the Nikara are, which Nezha was only half-listening to.__

Everyone knows what happened to Mugen, everyone knows who did it. Everyone knows the name of the woman that brought down two governments and pushed even the greediest invaders away. They remember her, basked in holy flames and carried by wings of fire. The Speerly lives on, and you will need to pinch out the last damn candle she lit before people can think differently about the Gods. _Nezha smirked to himself, his bracelets itched a little less now, but the fire in his scar still blazed on._

"Mandatory mass attendance will fix all these problems, President." Jermon finished, wiping his brow with a white handkerchief he kept on him. Nezha didn't realize Jermon was sweating, nor did he care if it was nationalism or anger.

"And what will happened to those that don't go anyway?" Nezha asked. The first words Nezha had said to his secretary since he walked in. Jermon was taken aback a little.

"Well, then those who do not go will be interviewed by priest guards," _interrogated by police _"And then asked to come to a private service the next day." _Forced to go, and if they don't comply, all sorts of terrible things will happen to whatever poor soul doesn't bow down to the Gray Company. _____

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"And what if people cannot come at all? What if they have a job, or a sick loved one they need to take care of, or all other sorts of possibilities that make it impossible to come to mass?" Jermon wasn't expecting any questions like that. It must be the first time a puppet ruler had talked back to him.

"Well, erm..." Rin and Nezha took pleasure in seeing the old man squirm. "We will have a priest or missionary come to the residence for a private mass. As for the people who need to work, I find it a silly question! No jobs unless affiliated with the church or of absolute necessity are supposed to be active on Sunday!" Jermon seemed satisfied with his answer, as if he Nezha hadn't poked gaping holes into his arguement.

"Does this dude ever leave this building? Or even look out a fucking window? There are gambling houses, brothels, sweatshops, and gods knows how many more jobs are open 24/7 no exceptions, and that's not even counting the people who are practically enslaved to Hesparian generals and aristocrats who are not even allowed to leave the houses they serve in!" Rin lashed out. If she could have grabbed her Speerly sword that hung over the fireplace on the right-hand center of Nezha's office, she would have sliced Jermon open by now, or maybe would have just burned him alive the second he walked in the door.

There was no point pushing any more relevant questions, unless Nezha wanted to get into more hot water with the High Priestesses and the Gray Company. He has already restricted mining in Dog Province, porcelain production in Tiger Province, and limited the amount of silk Nikara silk makers could produce and sell in Rat province. These acts infuriated the Gray company, who wanted to control it all, but couldn't do enough to Nezha to make him stop it or just disappear altogether because of his constant public appearance, and the inevitable revolt that would follow. If there's one thing Hesparia had learned during Rin's campaign, is that Nikan will fight to end, even if they all die in the process. Nezha was hated, of course, because while he did limit as Hesparian control as much as he could, it wasn't enough, and in too few areas. Nikara people are still being turned into second-class citizens, the New City was a prime example. Food being brought into the company in bulk, so the famine has been stopped, but the dependence on foreign aid filled Nikan with worry that it could be taken away, and arable land was in short supply do to the flood. And no one liked the new religion and much it dictated their lies, many riots against the construction of churches in the name of Fang Runin were common in the south. Ancient cities were on the brink of being dismantled, if it wasn't for Nezha's most popular act: He held a vote.

The vote was that everyone from each city planned to be westernized could vote on whether or not they wanted the cities to be dismantled and rebuilt or to be kept the same as it was. Nezha went to each city during the voting(he came to each city on a new form of transportation called a 'train', a massive metal thing that belched smoke and ran on long metal rails. It was the only way out of the city aside from airship, and going out in an airship would be like bowing to the Blue-Eyes(the derogatory term for Hesparians) forever. The process was simple: He entered the city, oversaw the voting process in the governor's administrative hall, had the votes be counted publicly, and the results were overwhelmingly on the side that wanted the cities as they were. The only exception was one of the bigger cities in Tiger Province-and was swiftly renamed Shiriton. Aside from Shiriton, every city resisted the Blue-Eyes. It boosted Nezha's popularity, but wasn't enough to outbalance the distain people had for him.

"Aside from the fact that it's impossible to kill you, the Nikara can't kill you." Rin said at one point on the train ride between cities. "You are the only Nikara in power. If they kill you, they kill every chance of equality being established peacefully."

"What will you do?" Jermon said. He pulled out a comb and began to comb his beard, realizing it had gotten messy during his rant.

_I want that comb _The Dragon said.__

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_Not now. _Nezha replied. Nezha looked deep in thought, it helped disguise that truth was that he was talking to his shouting patron.__

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_First, you let us be stuck like this, _the Dragon was talking about the bracelets. _bow down to these fools, and now won't do as much as bring me a comb?! _The Dragon was angry, trapped, and desperate. Ever since that battle in the grotto, Nezha has had little access to his home, unable to do much of anything to appease the screaming god in his mind. The only thing keeping himself from going insane was to keep the Dragon occupied by giving it smaller items Nezha could steal and then hiding them in his desk. _After all this time, you already owe me a debt, and now, YOU WON'T AT LEAST GIVE ME A COMB!?! __How can I repay this debt _* Nezha asked, closer to pleading. He was in so much pain, and couldn't show it unless he wanted to risk being taken away to the Gray Towers and- _That's it! ___________

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"Have you thought of something?" Rin said. She had been silent during the tirade with the Dragon, taking pleasure in Nezha's discomfort.

"Jermon, I have an idea, a sure one, but I will need to discuss it with the Priestesses. I am sure it will bring so many of the Nikara into the churches you'll have to build them at the same rate your machines produce goods " Jimon was puzzled, but had a small smile of satisfaction, thinking that he won. Nezha had stroked praise at Hesparia, and offered a solution to what the Gray Company wanted. But the confusion in his eyes told Nezha he still needed to sell the Priestess part of the factor.

"Very well, I'll call up a servant to bring up a typewriter." Jermon said and pulled out a small, round metal device, and pushed one of the many buttons. "How will you elaborate on your plan in your letter?"

"I'm not, I'm sending out a message to the airfield to prepare an airship. I'm flying to Londaria to speak to the Priestesses directly." Jermon looked ready to jump out of his own skin, his blue eyes now wide.

"B-but President, you cannot just to the capitol on a whim!" Jermon said, getting uncomfortably close to the end of Nezha's desk.

"But it's a weeklong trip to Hesparia by airship, is it not?" Nezha replied, smiling. "I am afraid your input does not matter on where I come and go, Jermon, that sort of decision was never touched upon in our legal agreements at beginning of the Republic." The door to the office swung open, and a Nikan servant entered, wearing a gray uniform and carrying a typewriter on a platter in front of them. After situating it in front of Nezha, it moved off to the left side of the room and awaited further instructions. " I will send the command for an airship to be prepared, but first I am writing an official message to the Priestesses that I am coming to Hesparia, I will be staying at the Yin family residence where my mother resided during her time in Londaria, and that I will be discussing my opinion on mandatory church service and my solution to bringing more people into the faith." Jermon spluttered, but Nezha began to type away. "I am within my right to seek an audience with the Priestesses,just as any other native colony leader, and I don't mind waiting as long as it takes for when I can see them." As he finished the letters with a satisfying _ting! _of the typewriter, he stamped the letters with his official stamp,and then sent one to the New City Airfield and one to the Grey Company post office for immediate delivery.__

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"That was quite the improvisation, I'm impressed! I don't know if whether or not Kitay would've approved or not, though." Rin said, looking over Nezha's shoulder as he typed.

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Within the next few hours, Nezha was ready. Terrified of the parlay he just played, but knowing that there's no turning back. He was packed, and leaving for the airfield in a smaller, more compact Airship, made for local travel across small distances with two Nikan servants and a Hesparian diplomat. The servants were not allowed to come with Nezha, but were permitted to see him too the airfield. The diplomat, however, was required to come with him to Hesparia. He expected this, but still hoped that there was still at least a shred of trust with him and the Gray Company.

As he looked down at the New City, formerly called Arubak, he felt sorrow. While it was hard to see from a perspective like this, he knew that the New City was an awful on a scar a soon-to-be diseased face of Nikan, more and more popping up like a face being sliced open with a knife until the damage is irreversible. He saw the segregated districts, he saw the preachers in the square, and he saw that the future had no place for people like him.

_You know Rin, if it wasn't for you, commanding me on that beach to take charge for Nikan, to bow down to the Blue-Eyes until I could stab them in the back, to rule, I wouldn't have done it. I am doing all of this because I love you, Rin. ___

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And then he heard Rin laugh.


End file.
